


What's Up Doc?

by ShenanigansEnsue



Series: Elizabeth "Doc" O'Neil [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn, the slowest burn, these two kids aren't even going to hold hands until the 50000 word mark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShenanigansEnsue/pseuds/ShenanigansEnsue
Summary: Captain O’Neil’s life has never been what one would call normal.  Born to an affluent family, she was suppose to marry rich and have two and a half kids by the time she was twenty five.  Instead, she went to med school, became an army nurse in one war and is now set to be a doctor in another.  But the 4077th MASH unit has a habit of making people’s lives just a little crazier.
Relationships: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/OC, Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/Original Female Character(s), Hawkeye Pierce/OC
Series: Elizabeth "Doc" O'Neil [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611625
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	What's Up Doc?

Just another day at the good ol’ 4077th M.A.S.H. unit. Which was to say, something was going seriously wrong and it wasn’t even noon. 

Colonel Henry Blake had long since accepted this would be the norm since his first week as commanding officer. But that didn’t make only being able to catch every other word the General was saying any less frustrating. 

“What’s that General,” he yelled into the phone. “I can’t quite hear you.”

“I--you--getting--Captain--”

The line went dead again.

“Radar!” Henry called. “There’s got to be a way to fix the connection.”

“No good, sir,” the corporal answered. “They’ve only got a few lines up because of the air raid.”

“Well can’t they hold the air raid until after I finish this call?”

“Colonel Blake?” 

“Still here sir,” Henry replied. “Now can you give it to me one more time?”

“I said--sending--surgeon--O’Neil.”

Henry nodded still not getting it and turned to Radar. “You get that?”

“Yes, sir. The general is sending us a new surgeon, Captain O’Neil.”

“Well why didn’t he just say that,” Henry commented before turning back to the phone. “Boy howdy, sir! I can’t tell you how much we’d appreciate an extra pair of hands around here. Radar, have his papers come in?”

“Not yet sir. Mail’s been backed up--”

“Because of the raid,” they finished together. 

“Of course it has,” Henry mumbled.

“Good--nurse--France--Drexel.”

“What?”

“General says the captain’s got a good service record,” Radar translated. “Served in France as a nurse in World War II and just graduated from Drexel.”

“Nurse?” Henry questioned before addressing Radar. “Should Klinger be worried?”

Radar gave something halfway between a shake of the head no and a noncommittal shrug, leaving the vague impression of “who’s to say”.

Henry waved him off and turned back to the receiver. “Listen General, I really can’t thank you enough. This O’Neil fella sounds exactly like the kind of guy we need.”

“Papers--tomorrow--nurses--.”

Henry shot Radar another look.

“He’ll be pulling in tomorrow with all the necessary papers,” Radar said. “And the general is also sending in some new nurses to round it off.” 

“Tomorrow?” Henry said into the receiver. “Sir, I appreciate it, but we can’t...hello? Hello?”

But it was no use. The line was dead, for good this time. 

“Damn it,” he cursed. There was nothing to be done. He let out a breath and allowed himself to chew on his cigar. “Well we best start preparing. Better--”

“Tell Major Houlihan about clearing space in the nurse’s tent and get a new cot for the Swamp,” he and Radar said together with Radar finishing with a “Yes, sir.” 

“And, get Pierce, Burns, and McIntyre in here.” Henry added.

“Captains Pierce, McIntyre and Major Burns here to see you sir,” Radar replied. 

“Well let them know it can wait, I have something important to tell them.”

“What’s up Henry,” Hawkeye asked as he and the two other doctors entered.

“Some actual good news for once,” Henry said, “command is finally allowing us to bring in another surgeon.”

“Hey, that’s terrific,” McIntyre exclaimed, making himself comfortable on the side of Henry’s desk.

“Is that really necessary,” Burns jumped in. “Surely the army doesn’t need to waste more man power.”

“Speak for yourself Frank,” Hawkeye said. “Personally, I’d like to have four surgeons here instead of three surgeons and a horse doctor.” 

Frank let out a string indignant scoffs and mumbles to be promptly ignored by everyone. 

“What unit are they coming from,” Trapper asked.

“No unit, straight from the states. General said he just graduated from Drexel.” 

“Graduated?” Hawkeye said. The relieved expression shifted into obvious frustration. “Henry, they can’t send us a kid that green. We have wounded here, not cadavers.”

“At least before Frank gets to them,” Trapper added. 

“Oh, don’t get huffy,” Henry protested. “For your information he served as a nurse in the last war.”

“Nurse? What’s wrong? Kid got flat feet and couldn’t join up?” Trapper asked.

“Was the kid actually a kid then?” Hawkeye continued. 

“I don’t know,” Henry cut in. “All I know is what the general told me. Our new doctor might not be as experienced with a knife, but they’ve been around enough meatball surgery not to get squeamish and that’s more than what we can ask for in any other doctor we might get our way. In the meantime, Hawkeye, I’m assigning you to look after him and show him the ropes.”

“Me?”

“Colonel, now I really must protest,” Burns stepped in. “I am the ranking officer here. Do you really want this new recruit to be contaminated by these two...degenerates?” 

“And what would you suggest Frank?” Henry asked, his exhaustion from being in the same room was Burns for more than a minute was becoming obvious.

“Well…” Frank said, making a point to stand a little straighter. “Let me be his mentor. I have the most experience, not to mention the military discipline a new recruit should aspire too.”

“All the more reason for us to look after him,” Hawkeye said. “Don’t worry about it Henry. Trapper and I will look after the kid.”

“He’ll be the son we’ve never had.”

“I don’t care what he is to you, so long as you don’t scare him off,” Henry said. “He’ll be arriving here tomorrow along with some new nurses. So, try not to get too distracted.”

“What do you take us for?” Hawkeye asked in mock offense. “We can break in the new kid and the new nurses at the same time.”

Trapper gave a crooked smile. “Provided he’s game.”

“Oh, that’s enough filth from the both of you,” Burns snapped.

“Shakespeare couldn’t have said it better,” Hawkeye replied dryly. “But on the subject of filth, with the flurry of new potential bunk mates coming in, it might be in our best interest to clear out some of our own.”

“Ah ma, do I have to?” Trapper protested.

“Now Trapper, if you don’t clean your room you won’t be allowed to play with your new toys.”

The two men left together with Burns not far behind, huffing and puffing all the way.

Henry shrugged it off, feeling a sudden wave of sympathy for the new recruit. The poor soul had no idea what he was in for.

* * *

Trapper and Hawkeye made quick work of the Swamp. Or at least as much quick work as they were willing to put in. The new cot was placed in the back-corner right between McIntyre and Burns. It left little room for what the new captain might bring save maybe a tiny side table and a pencil. 

The two of them made a point to clear a path to the bed and picked up their clothes just enough to see most of the floor. But, that was as far as they got before calling it good enough and breaking out a deck of cards.

“I don’t see how anyone can live under these conditions,” Burns lamented into his shaving mirror.

“You’re still breathing, aren’t you Frank,” Trapper shot back.

“I mean, I can,” Burns covered. “I’m made of stronger stuff. But this new Captain. He’s been living in a dorm room for the past how many years. He’s going to need help transitioning.”

“Henry said the kid was a nurse in France,” Hawkeye countered. “Between the European front and a medical dorm, Korea is going to look like a penthouse on Fifth Avenue.”

“Exactly,” Trapper affirmed. “We have everything a new recruit could want. Twenty-minute old gin, a family of rats living under his bed, and probably the same rations he had back in 1944.”

“Home sweet home.”

Burns scoffed, placing the razor to his face. “Really. No respect for volunteers.”

“What makes you think O’Neil is a volunteer?” Trapper asked.

“Oh, just a guess,” Burns said, in that passive aggressive, holier-than-thou tone that made Hawkeye’s teeth grind. “Someone like Captain O’Neil volunteers for his country in one war, it only makes sense he would for the next one. I bet he probably got his doctorate for just such a purpose.”

“Only if he got the sense knocked out of him in his first round,” Hawkeye said, dryly.

“Oh pish posh,” Burns spat. “I will not be having you ingrates drag Captain O’Neil’s good name through the mud.”

“Frank, we don’t even know enough of his name to drag it,” Hawkeye said. “Let’s just hold off the expectations until we actually meet the guy.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Trapper said clinking his martini glass with Hawkeye’s. However, he never got to finish the toast as the all too familiar sound of helicopters roared overhead.

“Attention all personnel. In coming wounded.”

The two doctors let out a sigh putting down their glasses and slapping their cards on the table.

“Well at least when the good doctor pulls in we’ll be all set for a proper 4077 greeting,” Hawkeye said. “Blood stained and exhausted.”

* * *

The night in O.R. was rough. But then again, that was like saying the sky is blue or war is hell. A classic cliché that one might find redundant, but still important to remind yourself of every now and again. Because if one day the sky isn’t blue or war isn’t hell, something is either wrong with the world or with you. 

The night in O.R. was rough and after fourteen hours of standing every doctor and nurse was ready to hit the hay. All thoughts lingered on a drink and a pillow and none were given to the new recruits coming around the bend. Except, of course, for the thoughts of one Corporal O’Reilly.

Radar stood with a clipboard in hand, waiting patiently as the two jeeps worth of new personnel came over the hill. He kept his eye out, looking for any male face he could find. He didn’t know who he was looking for, but so long as they had at least a five o’clock shadow, they’d stand out over the sea of smooth face nurses.

The jeeps came to a stop and ten women piled out, chattering all the while.

“All new nurses please report to Major Houlihan,” Radar called. “She’ll be in the mess tent just down that way.”

There was a general murmur of thanks as the wave of women washed by. But, in a rare moment, Radar couldn’t care less. He had hoped them leaving would somehow reveal a male person besides the driver hiding somewhere in either back seat, but no such luck.

“Anyone else,” he asked one of the drivers hopefully.

“Nobody here but us chickens,” the driver responded. “I do have some mail though. We picked it up as we were coming in.”

“Oh thanks,” Radar said sounding a little more disappointed than he meant to. Mail was usually something he rather enjoyed, but it was a poor substitute for a surgeon.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice asked followed by a tap on the shoulder.

Radar turned and was mildly surprised when he had to look a little down. She was older than him, mostly likely in her thirties with a captain’s insignia on her hat and shoulders. He stood to straighter attention at the sight.

“Could you direct me to Colonel Blake’s office,” she asked, in a polite but undeniably army-like way.

“Oh, yes ma’am,” Radar said. “Just up past the O.R. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

She turned to leave.

“But I wouldn’t go in there right now ma’am,” he said quickly. “He was in surgery all last night. You might need to give him a minute.”

Her expression conveyed sympathy, but how Radar wasn’t sure. Her facial features hadn’t moved an inch. He might have just been projecting.

“Of course. Could you direct me to the barracks then?”

Radar nodded and pointed in the vague direction of the nurses quarters.

She gave him a small smile, nodded and went on her way.

Radar only idly watched her go. She seemed like someone either Hawkeye or Trapper would go for, but he couldn’t imagine either of them getting too far. She was regular army if ever he saw one, besides Major Houlihan of course. 

He shook away the thought and went back to the problem at hand. 

No doctor.

He let out a sigh. He’d have to inform Colonel Blake first. Maybe there was something in the mail to lighten the mood.

* * *

Radar found Colonel Blake exactly where he expected him too; draped over his desk, still in surgical garb with a glass of something brown beside him and sound asleep. 

“Colonel Blake, sir,” he said, gently.

The man shot up, still disoriented, but stable enough all things considered. 

“Yes, what is it Radar?” 

“Mail sir. Came in with the new personnel.”

“Oh, great,” Colonel Blake said, sounding just a little revealed. “Everyone get off okay?”

“Yes, sir. All the nurses went to report to Major Houlihan.”

“Very good, and what about the new doctor.”

Radar felt his throat tighten. “Sir?”

“The new surgeon,” Henry clarified. “Doctor O’Neil. Everything go off alright with him?”

“Oh yeah,” Radar said. His heart rate started to spike and his voice got shaky. “Doctor O’Neil. Well ah, the thing is, sir…” He let out a nervous laugh. “He’s not here.”

“What?” Henry said, his eyes coming into sudden focus. “What do you mean not here?”

“I mean I didn’t see him sir.” Radar shrugged, not knowing what else to do. “He wasn’t on the jeep.”

“How was he not on the jeep? The general told us he would be there.”

“Maybe we misheard something sir.”

Henry let out a frustrated grunt, getting to his feet. “Just our luck. For all we know he fell out the back when no one was looking.”

“I rather doubt that sir,” Radar said, lightly. 

The Colonel shot him a look telling him, in no uncertain terms, he wasn’t in the mood. 

Radar got the message loud and clear. In a desperate plea, he started to shuffle through the papers in the mail bag for something, anything to turn this whole thing around.

“Oh!” he said. “Look here, sir. It looks like we’ve got his file at least.”

“Great,” Henry said sardonically, taking the file. “ I’ll send his file into surgery and give everyone a paper cut.”

He opened the file and immediately closed it in annoyance. 

“Christ, it’s not even him,” Henry huffed. “This must be one of the nurses files.”

He shoved the file back into Radar’s chest. The corporal caught it, deciding to take a peak into it himself.

“No, this is it sir. See?” He scurried over to Henry and pointed to the top of the page. “Captain O’Neil.”

“Yes, but as you can see here Radar,  _ her  _ name is Elizabeth.”

“I am seeing it sir. Captain Doctor Elizabeth Joanna O’Neil. Graduated Drexel University. Residency Pennsylvania Hospital. Former U.S. Army Nurse stationed in France.”

Henry snatched back the file. Radar did his best to keep up, standing on his toes to look over the Colonel’s arm.

Henry mumbled to himself as he read each page over and over and over again, until finally he had to admit defeat.

“That’s our Doc.”

“Oh!” Radar exclaimed. “I know her!”

“What?”

Radar fervently pointed to the picture on the top left corner. “She was on the jeep. She was going to report to you, but I said you were asleep and so she asked me where the barracks were.”

“She must have been looking for the new captain’s quarters,” Henry said, smiling in relief. But, it didn’t last long. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, his expression turned to sudden fear. 

“Radar. Find her and get her here before she meets McIntyre and Pierce.”

“Why shouldn’t she--”

Henry shot Radar a look and then he understood.

“Yes, sir!” he said, running out the door as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

Hawkeye plopped himself down on the cot determined never to move again. He was out of his surgical garb in his favorite red robe with a glass of spirits in his hand. This was as good as it was going to get, at least until he caught some shut eye.

“How are you still standing,” he asked, observing his friend examining himself in the mirror.

“New nurses just pulled in,” Trapper answered easily. “How are you not standing?” 

“I would, but my back decided to commit mutiny.”

It was then the door of the Swamp swung open and Hawkeye knew it was going to be a while before he got any peace of mind. 

“Something eating you Frank,” Hawkeye asked the more than usual flustered man. 

“Like you care,” Burns snapped back.

“That’s true.”

“Well if you must know, Captain O’Neil is missing.”

Hawkeye straightened, if only slightly. This information at least warranted a one elbow sit up. “Missing?”

Frank nodded. “Oh yeah, new personnel has arrived and nobody’s seen him.”

“Maybe he missed his flight,” Trapper offered.

“Or maybe he works faster than you,” Hawkeye added, shooting a look at Trapper.

“Well either way, you have to find him,” Frank said, distressed. “The Colonel assigned you to watch after him after all.”

“You make a good point Frank,” Trapper said.

“I do?”

“Sure. We’ll search high and low. I’ll start with the nurses tent.”

“Good idea,” Hawkeye added. “Maybe he’s behind my eyelids.” 

Frank looked like he was going to say something indignant when a knock came at the door. 

“We’re closed!” Hawkeye called. But no dice. The door scraped open.

“Pardon me, sirs,” a woman asked. “I’m looking for the new doctor’s quarters.”

Hawkeye immediately straightened up, fully up right this time. 

Lovely as the first word that came to mind, which felt odd to say, even if it was just in his head. Lovely was not a word he tossed around lightly. She had a gentle face, big brown eyes, button nose and curly chestnut hair. Her frame was slight with subtle curves accentuated on a body much shorter than his usual type, but that was neither here nor there. Really, what else could he think but, lovely.

“You found it,” he answered, not skipping a beat.

She glanced at him suspiciously before taking a cursory glance around the space. A frown appeared at the dirty laundry, garbage, and general mayhem. Her eye lingered on the empty cot only to be immediately drawn to the distillery in the corner. That replaced the frown with mild surprise. 

Hawkeye wondered idly if there was some problem with her cheek muscles. None of her expressions strained themselves more than a few centimeters. 

“There must be some mistake,” she said. 

“No, no mistake,” Hawkeye said, getting to his feet. “It’s cleaner than usual, but that won’t last long once the new doctor gets here.”

He smiled down at her. “Don’t tell me you’re this O’Neil character’s personal nurse. I’m liable to get jealous.” 

“Hardly,” she said, tightly. “Doctor?”

“Pierce. This is McIntyre and the malpractice lawsuit in a military uniform is Burns.” 

“That’s Major to you,” Frank said, sharply.

“Oh I’m sorry, Major Malpractice Lawsuit.”

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you,” McIntyre stepped in, taking her hand as he did so. “Lieutenant?”

“Captain,” she corrected, pointing to the insignia on her jacket for emphasis. “O’Neil.” 

“Just my luck, the new doctor’s married,” Trapper mumbled to no one in particular. 

“Like that’s stopped you,” Hawkeye commented. 

“I assure you I’m not,” O’Neil said, pulling her hand away. “Clearly there has been some miscommunication. I am Doctor Elizabeth O’Neil, newly transferred surgeon to the 4077th M*A*S*H unit.” 

Hawkeye blinked. 

O’Neil glanced between the three men expectantly. “This is the 4077th, isn’t it?” 

He turned to Trapper who’s expression matched his own; utter confusion.

“No you’re in the right place,” Hawkeye managed.

“We just…” Trapper started.

“They didn’t tell us…”

O’Neil raised a hand as a signal to stop. “It’s quite alright. I understand the confusion and I’m sure we can resolve this matter quickly. If one of you can just direct me to Colonel Blake’s office, I’ll ask him about alternative living arrangements.” 

“Well now, there’s no need to be hasty,” Hawkeye said. 

“Yeah, we’re all doctors here,” McIntyre chimed in.

“It wouldn’t be right for us to toss you out on your ear just because you’re a woman.”

“Down right ungentlemanlike.” 

She gave them an appeasing smile. “That’s very kind of you--”

“It is, isn’t it.”

“We’re very friendly here.”

“But, I would still prefer to speak with the Colonel,” she said, firmly.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Burns stepped in. “Allow me to escort you, miss.”

“Doctor,” she corrected.

“What?”

“My name is Doctor O’Neil, or Captain, if you prefer. Not miss.” 

Burns stopped, obviously flustered. His instinct to reprimand a subordinate for taking any kind of tone with him and his own worship of military formalities clashed until all he could get out was abashed, “Of course. Allow me to show you the way, Captain.”

“Thank you Major Burns.” 

They both left leaving Hawkeye and Trapper stunned and a little disturbed. 

“Hey Hawk,” Trapper said, hesitantly. “You don’t think we’ve got another Houlihan on our hands.”

“Too soon to tell,” he said. “We’d better follow, make sure Burns doesn’t corrupt the poor dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Think of this as the end before the commercial break. Let me know what you think so far! 
> 
> If you like this, check out my other work either here or @shenanigans-and-imagines.tumblr.com. Feel free to send me any thoughts or questions there. 
> 
> Also, please leave a comment and kudos if you're so inclined.


End file.
